Ladies Man
by Stained Blue
Summary: Some girls won't let go; most girls can't say no, First glance, I could see, your next move was up to me.


Title: Ladies Man  
Pairing: One Two/Handsome Bob  
Note: Oh man, RocknRolla is a wonderful movie, so I must ship. Not to mention, it's _Tom Hardy_. He's beautiful. Anyway, told from One Two's POV. Not mine.

He glanced over at his friend, still a little sad but determined to make the most of the night before Handsome Bob was shipped upstate for his sentence. He tried to smile, tried to entice Bob into smiling with him. He elbowed the younger man softly, winking as he informed Bob that he'd managed to get the Harris twins.

"That cheered you up then?" But a glance over at Bob told him that Bobby was no happier now than before. He furrowed his brow and kept driving.

"It's not that I'm ungrateful One Two…" He looked over, pinned Bob with a gaze. "It's just what?" Bobby shook his head slightly, looking away, "Don't worry…you wouldn't understand…" Unease curled in his stomach, and he tapped the brakes, glancing over at Bob. "I understand _anything _coming from you Bobby boy." He stared intently at the younger man, trying to pick up on what exactly was wrong with his friend. Generally Handsome Bob was the life of the party, making everyone laugh and smile. This Bob was just…wrong.

But Bob looked up at him tentatively, a hopeful look lighting his dark eyes. "Would you?" He smiled, tried to be as honest as a crook like him could be. "You're me best mate." Bob looked down, as if unsure, and the uncertainty of it was oddly endearing. He smiled at his friend, trying to encourage the younger man.

"I…don't want the strippers One Two…I want you."

His foot mashed on the brakes as shock slugged him hard in the chest, chilling him all over. Of course, he was sort of flattered. After all, Handsome Bob was, well, quite handsome. A regular lady killer. And then the anger forced the flattery from his mind. He wasn't _gay. _He barely had the forethought to throw the car into park before he was out, leaving his door open behind him. In the next instance, as he paced back and forth in the street, the rage boiled over and out through his mouth.

"You dirty bastard! I know all your girlfriends, all of 'em!" His rage was mixing with disbelief. He couldn't even manage to care as he watched Handsome Bob's face crumple in a horrified expression. Bobby dropped his head back against the car seat, "See, I told you, you wouldn't understand."

He jabbed his finger at Bob through the windshield, the words spitting from his numbed lips. "Understand what?! That you're a homa? You're _Handsome Bob_ for God's sake, _Handsome Bob the lady killer_! I have had showers with you, you've seen my cock!" His heart cringed as he noticed the glistening tracks on Bob's face.

Handsome Bob's voice was so soft from inside the car that he barely heard the words said. "I only told you cos I'm going away, but I should have kept my mouth shut." He kept pacing, nodding his head vigorously. "Fuckin' right you should have kept your mouth shut, should have drowned the cat instead of letting it out the bag." Bob had curled in slightly on himself, his shoulders quivering with barely suppressed sobs. He pursed his lips, feeling horrid for having over reacted. He never wanted to see Handsome Bob cry. Slowly, he got back in the car, gripping tightly at the steering wheel and looking anywhere but at Bob.

"All right Bob, I am sorry. I went over the top, it was just a surprise that's all." He glanced over at Bob's face, stained with tears, and felt his heart curl. His immediate thought was to put his arm around Handsome Bob and hug him, try to console his friend. Instead he looked back out the windshield. "Bit of a broad side Bob, do you hear me, I am sorry…" He sucked in a deep breath, trying to prepare for the next words out of his mouth. "Well what is it you want to do with me?"

He watched as Bobby wiped at his tears, looked out the window. "Well?" He heard Bob sniffle and shift back toward him. "I just want a dance." Letting out a whoosh of air, he ran his hand through his hair, nodding slowly. "All right. I…you can have your dance. But I'm not _fuckin' gay._"

Later, on the dance floor, the promised dance was so far from what he had expected. He had expected throbbing music, Handsome Bob grinding against him to the beat, those hands all over his body as he just tried to make it through the night. Instead? There he was, in the middle of a darkened dance floor, while soft music played. Bob's arms were draped loosely over his neck, the younger man's head resting against his collarbone, and his own arms wrapped loosely around Bob's waist.

They swayed with the music, their bodies moving easily together. He could smell the spicy musk of Bob's cologne. The smell, coupled with the obvious care in the way Bob held him, made something stretch in him. Of course he wasn't _gay_, but there was something about the moment, the tenderness of it all. He leant his head back to look down on the upturned face of his friend.

Handsome Bob's eyes were closed, his dark lashes spread out on his cheeks. He could see the barest hints of stubble on his friend's strong jaw, high cheekbones. The dips in his soft looking mouth where his friend bit at his lips. He wondered if those lips were as soft as they looked. Shaking his head to be rid of the ridiculous notion, he looked away and leant forward again, resting his jaw against Bob's skull.

He was acutely aware of Bob's strong, lean body against his. When he felt the fissure of desire uncoil in his gut, he chalked it up to Handsome Bob's proximity, mostly the easy pressure against his hips, the slow movement. He tried to push the feeling of lust away, but was unable.

When he dropped Bob off after the dance and drove home to his dark apartment, he couldn't get the feeling out of his mind. He could still feel the lingering pressure of Handsome Bob's body pressed tightly against his. He could still smell the smokiness of Bob's cologne. Sighing, he rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow, tried to breathe in the scent of the last woman who had been there, but all his mind remembered was Bob's familiar, yet different, scent.

His sleep was filled with dreams that he couldn't quite remember upon waking, and had a feeling that he wouldn't want to anyway.

When he brought the shocking information to Mumbles' attention, the other man had just laughed. Informed him that everyone knew. Well, everyone but him. He tried to push it from his mind, to treat Handsome Bob as he always had. But every time he saw the younger man, the smell of Bob's cologne overwhelmed him and he thought about that night, and wondered at the possibility of more, and violently tried to distance himself from it as it made him think too much about himself.

At the party, he watched as Handsome Bob smiled coyly at the dark-haired lawyer on the couch. Mumbles was telling him something, but his attention was solely on the sight before him. The man was swooning after Bob as if he was the best thing since the discovery of diamonds. And the lawyer wasn't…unattractive. Though, to be fair, he wasn't entirely sure of Bobby's type, so he was unsure how far the possible lust ran. Bob was grinning, laughing, and something curled hard in his chest. It took him a moment to recognize the feeling as jealousy. When Bob gave over the small slip of paper with, presumably, his number written on it, he was infuriated. "I need some air," was all he managed to Mumbles before he was turning away.

In a rage, he stormed outside and shook a cigarette free of the crumpled pack, lit it up, and inhaled shakily. He drew the smoke deep into his lungs, held it there for a brief second before letting it curl out through his nostrils. He heard the door hiss open, and he could smell the musky spice of Handsome Bob's cologne.

He hadn't been able to get that smell out of his head since that night.

He reached out and snatched Bob's arm, dragging him roughly over. "The fuck are ya doin' Bob." Handsome Bob furrowed his brow, confusion clearly etched on his face. "The fuck am I doin'? I'm fixing this mess! I'm getting your papers about some snitch." Bob yanked his arm free and went to walk away, but he grabbed the back of his friend's shirt, throwing the smaller man roughly into the brick side of the building.

Pressed close against his friend, his forearm bared at Handsome Bob's neck, he stilled the other's movement. He leant in close, glowering at the younger man, who was unshaken. "And you had to give him your fucking number?" Bob's brows shot up, a disbelieving look on his face. "And what are you? My fucking boyfriend? What's it matter if I gave him my number?"

"Maybe I don't want to see that shit," he growled. Handsome Bob glared at him, those steely eyes narrowing. "It's not as if I sucked him off in front of you. Jesus Christ! I gave the guy my fucking number." Jealously curled hard in his chest and he growled. The cocky smile that curled Bob's soft looking mouth served to drive the wedge of anger deeper. "Maybe he'll call. And take me to dinner. And then we can go back to his house and fuck."

That last statement was the straw that broke him. He saw red at the idea of that lawyer's hands all over Handsome Bob. He pressed his forearm harder into Bob's throat, leant closer. His words came out a low-seated growl. "And what if I tell you no." Bob laughed at him, bared his teeth in a grin. "And I say again, who the fuck are you? My fucking boyfriend?"

He smashed his mouth hard against Bob's, slamming the other's head against the rough brick. He kissed the younger roughly as his hands curled in Bob's expensive shirt. He pressed his hips tight against Handsome Bob's, as if trying to meld his body to Bob's and Bob's to the wall.

When he drew back, he listened to the wet gasp of breath from Bob, felt the panted breath against his lips. "No, but I don't share." He let Bob push him back, slip away from him. He could see the caution etched on Bobby's face as his friend moved away from him. "What the fuck One Two. I tell you I'm gay and you flip the fuck out, then spend the last week avoiding me like I've got some fucking disease, and now? Now, you want to kiss me?" Bob shook his head, a strained laugh slipping from his throat, before he turned around and left. And he watched Handsome Bob go, his gaze lingering perhaps overly long on Bob's tight ass in those dark, well-fitting jeans.

Shaking his head, he strode back into the party, looking for Stella. When he found her, the normal appreciation was muffled a bit. The slinky dress just begged him to pull it off her. He grabbed her just above her elbow, pulling her close against him, and murmured in her ear "Come with me." She gave a soft, throaty laugh as he tugged her along.

He opened the back door of his SUV, tugged her inside with him. As he stretched out on the seat, his hands found the hem of her dress, pushing it up. She laughed at him again, "Eager are we?" He gave her a bright, crooked smile, "If you don't want to play then get out." She gave him a simper of a smile as her fingers unlaced his jean button, pulled the zipper down. His fingers dug hard into her hips as he lifted her, positioned her over him.

She gasped above him as he thrust inside, dragging her down hard. He moved quickly, taking no joy in the feel of fucking her. He let his eyes slip shut and had to clench his jaws, just in case he said the wrong name. But that didn't muffle the name from his mind, as Bob's name rebounded in his skull.

Once she had slipped from him, left the SUV, he rolled onto his knees and fixed his jeans, ran his hand over his hair and face. He sat inside the SUV, reeking of sex, and wondering at what to do next. He briefly entertained the notion of going back inside and rejoining the party, but instead slipped into the driver's seat of the SUV and started it up, heading off in a random direction in search of a bar.

The establishment he found himself in was a seedy place, filled with the clack of pool balls and static-filled music from an unseen radio. He downed beer after beer, stewing in the thoughts of Bob and that fucking lawyer. He tried to tell himself it didn't matter.

After a while, when it was time to leave, he couldn't find his keys. His hands, crammed way down deep in his pockets, turned up nothing. So he pressed his heavy head against the dirty bar top, letting his eyes drift shut. A gaping blackness rushed up and covered him.

The weeks following, he was hard pressed to treat Handsome Bob the same. He had begun to associate the soft musk of Bob's cologne with desire, and that was bad, he decided. All of a sudden, that night on the dance floor had created his own personal Hell. Anytime Bobby was around, he noticed things. Things like Handsome Bob's capable hands, his cheeky grin, the strong build of his body. He even noticed the little things, like the color of Handsome Bob's eyes, the gentle flex of muscles, the movement as he swallowed. And it was killing him.

He wondered how Bob had managed to live like that, keeping his desires in check and under wraps, with the thing he wanted so close. The younger man had been dealing with it for however long, and like a fucking champ. And here he was, dealing with it for only about a month or so, and failing miserably.

And then one day, it all broke.

He was sitting in the bar with Mumbles, when a thick packet of documents landed on the table in front of him. "Your snitch, my friends." He looked up at Bob, who was smiling brightly. He could hear the words of praise from Mumbles, but as he thumbed through the packet, he only wondered one thing. "What'd you do for the info," he asked Handsome Bob. Bob gave him a cheeky smile, "Ah ah ah, a gentleman never kisses and tells," and he swallowed hard. Bobby winked, gathering an uproar of laughter from the men around them. He was the only one not laughing.

He was probably the only one who didn't find it very funny. The idea of Bob in bed with that sleazy lawyer made his stomach churn. He forced a smile to his lips and got to his feet. He leant against the bar, sipping his beer, and watching Bob mingle with the guys.

Unintentionally, he let his gaze roam down Handsome Bob's frame, catching on those neat hips. He wondered if the lawyer had had his hands there, curled tightly around the wings of Bob's hips. He tried to shake the thought from his head, but instead his gaze landed on Bob's back, and the question of scratches up and down that taunt skin haunted him.

When he finally managed to tear his gaze from Handsome Bob's frame, those steely blue eyes were boring into him. Bob lifted an eyebrow, an unspoken question floating across the room toward him. He jerked his head back toward the door, and Bobby nodded. Slowly, he wound his way through the smoky room and toward the door, certain that Bobby boy was following him.

"What's up One Two?" He tugged the door open on his SUV and glanced across the hood at Handsome Bob. "Get in the car, Bob." He watched the caution etch its way across Bobby's face, and he jerked his head toward the car. "Just get in the fuckin' car." Slowly, Bob got in the car, and he started it up.

The inside of the SUV was filled with silence, and he wasn't unaware of the vast amounts of tension. "One Two…?" He glanced over at the younger man, but didn't reply as they made their way across town. When he parked in front of his apartment, he turned to face Handsome Bob, "Well Bob, let's go inside. We have some things to discuss." He watched as Bob's eyebrows twitched up, but the younger man followed him up to his room.

When he shut the front door behind them, Handsome Bob looked at him as if expecting him to put a bullet through his brain at any second. "So…One Two…" He fixed himself a drink and pinned Handsome Bob with a look. "What'd you do to get that information Bobby."

Handsome Bob leant against the doorframe, giving him a disbelieving look, "You're still on that?" He continued to stare at the younger man, sipping slowly on his drink. Finally, a deep sigh slipped up from Bob's chest, a broad hand ran across his messy hair. Bob slumped down on his leather sofa, head down and staring at the floor. "Christ One Two, you really wanna know?"

"Yeah Bob, I do." He threw back the rest of his drink, feeling the liquor burn its way down his throat and into his stomach. "Ah…I promised him a date. We met for coffee and a light breakfast. He brought the papers with him. He made me promise that we'd go on a fancy dinner date, with the possibility of something more afterward." He felt like his skin was crawling.

Slowly, Bobby lifted his head and gave him a sullen look. "Do you want to hear his exact words about me? Or is that enough?" He nodded, "Lemme hear all of it." Bob sighed again, slow and easy, and rubbed the back of his neck. "He told me I was more than just a pretty face, that I was the complete package, and that you didn't know what you were missing."

He watched as Handsome Bob got to his feet and began to pace. "I…I just don't fucking get it One Two." Those steely blue eyes turned to stare at him, that icy gaze burrowing into his heart. "I tell you I'm gay, and you flip. I ask for a dance, and you act like it's the worst thing in the world." Bob chuckled softly, looked away from him. "I never thought it was so bad. All I wanted was to feel your arms around me, something good to hold on to while I was upstate. I mean, five years is a long time to go without anything good in your life."

"So I give you your dance and then you go sleazing around with that fucking lawyer? Makes perfect sense to me Bobby boy." Bob rounded on him, his head tilted down and a broad smile stretching his lips. "Are you jealous One Two? Is that what this? Is that why you're chasing off any man who might want me?" He flinched, felt his words jumble in his mouth. "No Bob, that's not what this is."

Bobby laughed sharply, and he could see the hurt in his eyes. "So what is it? Now that you know I want you, you're just going to be the ultimate cock block to me?"

And then the words were coming up like vomit. "That night on the dance floor has me all fucked up Bob. All fucked up. I have no fucking idea what's up and what's down. Sometimes I think it would be easier if you _had_ asked me to just fuck you or something. Instead of a _fucking slow dance_. Now how am I supposed to feel." He looked up, watching as Handsome Bob cocked his head slightly to the side, staring at him. "I have _you_ all fucked up? What do you think all this has been doing to me? It's like you're fucking playing tug-of-war with my heart."

He watched as Bob slumped down on his couch again, his head in his hands, and he slowly crossed the room. He sat down gingerly by the younger man, their shoulders nearly touching but not quite. "How do we fix this Bobby? I can't keep going on like this." Bob looked over at him, and he could see indecisiveness lingering there. Acting on instinct, he leant in and crashed his lips against Bob's, pressing the younger man back into the sofa. He could feel Bob's hands curling against his back, pulling him closer until it felt like their bodies would mesh.

Finally he drew back, feeling Bob's breath flaring against his lips. He stared into those dark blue eyes that were glittering cheekily. He could understand how Bob had people falling at his feet. "You really think fucking me would help make up your mind." He could feel the nerves churning his stomach, and he shrugged. "Only one way to find out." He offered Bob a wink and then got to his feet.

And they went upstairs to his bedroom.

As he tugged his shirt off, he watched Bob do the same, felt his mouth run dry at the defined muscles of the younger's core. Not that he was out of shape, but he was definitely starting to feel his age. He struggled out of his shoes and then his jeans, before striding toward the bed and sitting down on the edge in just his boxers. He felt nervousness well up in his chest as he watched Handsome Bob shove those dark jeans down narrow hips.

Could he really do this was the only question slipping through his mind on infinite repeat, even as he watched Bob stroll toward him. And when Bob carefully straddled his lap, his mind went blank.

Slowly, he ran his palms up Bobby's smooth chest, letting his fingertips trace the arched and curved lines of muscle definitions. The soft spicy musk of Bob's cologne wrapped around him. "Alright," the younger asked softly, his broad palms resting on his shoulders. After a second's hesitation, he nodded, and felt Bob push him down roughly.

His body contacted with the mattress but before it fully registered, Handsome Bob's form was stretched over his, his lips on his. Those capable hands were all over his skin, making his breath catch and hitch in his chest. His own fingers dug into the taunt skin of Bob's lower back, pulling the younger as close as he could. He kissed back.

His lips nipped at Bobby's full bottom lip before his tongue pressed hard into Bob's mouth. He felt Bob's hands curl in his hair, tight against his scalp, and arched up into the touch. And for a bit, it was like he was breathing through that kiss, through Bobby.

He broke the kiss long enough to force Bob onto his back, his body fitting tight against the younger's before he could really miss the heat of the other's skin. The thin fabric of their boxers really did nothing to hide anything, and he could feel Bob's hard on pressing against his. It sent shudders through his spine. He stared down at his friend, who was in much the same boat as him, he figured.

But at the same time he couldn't remember ever seeing a more beautiful sight. Bob's lips were curved up at the corners, a bruised red, and barely parted. He could hear the soft rasps of his friend panting. That dark hair was mussed up, and he couldn't help but laugh softly. Those blue eyes opened slowly, darker than he had ever seen them. "What?" He chuckled again and smoothed down some of Bobby's errant strands of hair. "I was just thinking, I can see where Handsome came from." Bob punched him roughly in the arm, and he was reminded of the younger's nature.

Bobby may have been pretty, but he was still a member of the Wild Bunch and the best damned gunslinger in the city. "And…that lawyer was right Bobby," he quieted long enough to brush a tender kiss against Bob's full mouth, "You are the complete fucking package." He kissed Bobby hard, feeling their teeth clink together and tasting the plume of blood that busted from between their lips.

He could feel Bob's fingers pressing tight against his lower back, pulling him closer. His hands landed on Bobby's hips, his fingers just barely curling into the waistband of the younger's boxers. Slowly, he pulled back and gave Handsome Bob an embarrassed grin. "Ah…Bobby, I'm a bit lost." Bob smiled gently, pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and then slowly extracted himself from under him. His body suddenly felt degrees cooler without Bobby's heat as well.

Bob kicked off his boxers, and he took that as his cue to struggle out of his as well. His breath left his chest in a soft wheeze when he looked up only to find Bob on his elbows and knees, his back sloped beautifully. "Bobby?"

Those dark eyes peered at him over the broad muscles of Bobby's shoulder and back, and he could tell the younger was grinning. "Yeah?" His hands gently spread and curled around Bob's hips, and he pressed against his friend. Those dark eyes fluttered shut. "Uh…how does this work." He could barely hear the breathless chuckle. "Pretty much the same. Just…go a little slow, yeah?" He nodded, smoothing his palms up and down the sloped back proffered before him.

Finally, he managed to find his starting point and pushed. The point where his body merged with Bobby's felt like an inferno, and his fingers curled harder about those sharp hips. He could see Bobby's fingers curled about the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, his lips parted over his teeth like a grimace. He smoothed his hands up and down the younger's back, trying to keep the pressure as constant as he could.

When his hips pressed against Bobby's tight ass, he pressed his lips to that slightly sweaty place between Bob's arched shoulder blades. He could feel the harsh panting of his friend, the hard inhale and exhale that made the frame stretched under him quiver. The heat was exquisite to the point of almost pain. Sucking in a deep breath, he began to pull back out. Almost gently, he pressed his hips back toward Bob.

And then Bob moved, and it all broke.

He pressed his face to the middle of Bobby's back, one hand still curled tightly about a sharp hip while the other spread on the bed to help him balance. His hips ebbed and fluxed against Bob's tight ass, harder and harder still until he finally managed to make Bobby cry out. The sound was raw, nearly wounded. A low pitched moan that he could almost feel being shaken free from the bottom of the younger's chest.

It didn't take long for him to feel the sweet, burning hot pleasure curling tightly against the base of his spine. He rubbed his lips against the slightly sweaty skin of Bobby's back before biting down hard, crashing his hips hard against Bob's ass while he came. Over the rush of pleasure pulsing through him, deafening and blinding him to all else, he heard the same raw noise tear through Bobby's chest.

In a tangle of sweaty limbs, they collapsed on the bed. He slowly opened his mouth, pressing an apologetic kiss to the dark bite mark in the center of Bob's back. He began to pull away, only to have Bob reach blindly for his hand. He let his fingers curl between Bobby's, relaxing back into his previous position of being plastered against Bob's back.

He slipped off just barely, pressing his face into the cool sheets. Bobby turned his head just enough so that he could see those dark blue eyes over a shoulder. "Alright," he asked softly, running his palm up and down Bobby's back. He could see the strain in the smile that barely touched those eyes. Slowly, he pulled back, careful not to hurt Bob. The sharp scent of blood reached his nose, making his nostrils flare gently. He reached for Bobby, but the younger rolled off the bed slowly. He could see the tacky streaks of blood on the inside of those strong thighs. Worry pitched hard in his stomach.

Slowly, he rolled onto his back, bent an arm behind his head. He heard the shower start up as he stared at his ceiling. Whatever might have been salvaged from the friendship before this had been shattered. He worried that he would lose Bobby forever. But, he had been right. The sex had put everything into perspective for him.

It'd been awhile since someone had kissed him the way that Bobby did. With hunger and passion that seemed bottomless. And that scared him, like it might yawn open and swallow him whole. Sighing, he closed his eyes and waited.

When the shower finally shut off, he propped himself up on his elbows and watched the door with a quiet curiosity. The moment Bobby stepped out, he smiled. He couldn't help it. Bobby had always made him smile. The young man was too engaging by far, and that beautiful grin could charm a snake. He patted the bed beside him, and slowly Bobby crept across to him.

Once the younger had settled in close to his side, he rolled on his side and slung his leg over that tight ass. "I never woulda taken you for a bottom." Bobby laughed, a bright sound, and grinned charmingly. "'m not. Just for you." The younger winked cheekily, and he felt the implications settle heavily in his chest. In that single regard, he had been Bobby's first.

The thought made him sentimental. It made him want to tattoo his name on Bobby's tan skin, leaving hickeys and bites all over to show the younger had a place to go, where he belonged. He cast his arm over Bob's broad chest and pulled the younger closer. "Did…did you get any clarity, One Two?" He could hear the uncertainty in that soft voice.

He disentangled himself from Bob and rolled onto his stomach, folding his arms under his head like a pillow. He turned his head to look into those dark blue eyes. "Ya know, I was actually thinking about that while you were in the shower." He could see the carefully guarded look in the other's eyes, like a cushioning for a blow that was almost certain. He reached out a hand, curling his fingers through Bobby's. "We're both ladies men, me more faithfully than you, a'course." Bob gave a snort of a laugh, his full mouth pursing gently.

"But I think…that I can be a Bobby man. I think I'd like that a hell of a lot more." He winked at Bobby, watching as his words sunk in. Bob tucked into his side, those soft lips finding his.

He knew it would be hard, but these little tender moments would more than make up for it.


End file.
